


Worship

by daroh



Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Antichrist, Bukkake, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Implied Relationships, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Post-Finale, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, implied Simone Baptiste/Damien Thorne/Amani Golkar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daroh/pseuds/daroh
Summary: Post-series finale. Detective Shay likes submitting to Damien, even when Amani calls the shots.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musikurt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musikurt/gifts).



> Thanks so much to the Yuletide mods! I can't even imagine all the work you do for this fest. Thank you, too, to Musikurt, for nominating this fandom and these characters. I hope you like the fic!! It was lots of fun to think about and to write. Happy Yuletide!! Thank you, too, to my awesome beta, of course! Especially for the quick work at the end.
> 
> Also: I chose "No Archive Warnings Apply" because they really don't, but this is sort of a messed up threesome with the anti-Christ. There is perceived dubcon or noncon in the eyes of one character, but really all three are into what's happening.

Shay had stopped breathing the moment his bullet had gone through Simone’s head. He’d killed an innocent woman, shot her instead of Damien. It was always someone else—not Damien—who got killed, and now he was the one who’d done the killing. He had lost his family, his job, his sanity over this obsessive pursuit, and now he’d thrown away his innocence.The price for catching Damien was unbearable. The weight on Shay’s soul felt leaden, immediate, and permanent.

What had been happening that chaotic night, anyway? Everything seemed to have reversed itself, but the thought that, rather, nothing had changed but his own perspective made Shay tremble. Damien, it turned out, was the victim, hunted by armies of men and women, by the Church, and by a cabal of wealthy benefactors. It made no sense. The man was bloodied and tortured, terrorized; he’d tried to run for safety, dragging Simone with him.

And then Shay had fired, driven by some futile need to lash out, despite the confusion. He’d been desperate to exact his own revenge, not have it stolen from him by some militarized corporate cult that had been behind the scenes the whole time. 

The bullet had pierced Simone’s skull, and Damien held her, screaming through furious tears. The sight of him cradling her body was dreadful to behold, and the sounds of his cries seemed otherworldly. They were howls of an anguish so deep it was as if some crystal core of the earth had shattered, and Shay wasn’t able to breathe anymore.

Then, Damien had done it: pledged his soul to raise the dead, to bring back a woman he loved and inadvertently, save Shay from having taken her from him.

Shay had fallen to his knees at the sight, pledging his own undying loyalty and service, his soul, if he had one left. He offered it all to Damien and no one else.

When Damien caught sight of him, he’d smiled ever so slightly, the promising curl of his lips sending a thrill through Shay that he knew he’d never be able to do without.   

 

***

Now, Shay was on his knees again. He had become a soldier of Damien’s, a protector and servant. He would do anything he was told out of awe alone, but he also was bound by his vow. He had sworn to do anything Damien asked of him, and he needed to do it all. It was the only way he could live, to be controlled utterly by the sublime power that Damien wielded, his body beautiful, his authority divine and terrible, his heart, a murky mixture of loyalty and defiance, selflessness and sadism. Who wouldn’t bow down before such a figure? Shay would stay on his knees until the four horsemen themselves showed up to dislodge him. Nothing made sense anymore except to do for Damien.

He knew that Amani and Simone felt the same, but they were in the enviable position of having been his friends before he took up his immortal reins. He loved them, and they loved him. Shay had murdered one of them, and for that, he would always suffer their wrath, even as he was part of their team. And he would take it. The truth was, he needed the kind of punishment they inflicted, the humiliation tied up with lust and love. It soothed and focused him, and it made him feel more a part of their inner circle than they probably meant for him to.

Here he was bidden to kneel before his golden antiChrist. Amani leaned against a dresser close by. This was a game they played when Simone was away.

“Good,” Amani said. “Stay on your knees, just like that. And not a word unless I say so.” Amani pressed his foot into Shay’s chest. It was only with difficulty that Shay resisted falling back against the wall behind him.

Amani stepped toward Damien, whose eyes were glued to Shay. Damien’s gaze had a slight tenderness to it. It still had an edge—it was never without it—but it wasn’t cruel, only potentially so. It showed flashes of the power Damien could unleash if he chose. Shay wanted to submit in every way to that power, to help it get out, to free Damien of its weight, even if only temporarily. Amani didn’t seem to understand how to do that, or maybe Damien didn’t like Amani to see him completely unrestrained, all human inhibition giving way to his appetites, but that was why Shay was there.

Shay’s thoughts were brought back to the image in front of him. Amani touched a hand to Damien’s cheek, urging him to look at him. When Damien complied, Amani went in for a kiss, letting his hand drift back into Damien’s hair, fisting it as he opened to deepen the kiss.

He was angling them so Shay could see it all, the hints of their tongues as they swiped inside each other’s mouths, the way Amani’s hips swayed into Damien’s thigh with a suggestive push, the way their bodies arched together, Amani’s, swan-like, curving into Damien’s statuesque build. They were beautiful, Shay had often observed. It all seemed like a gorgeous performance, orchestrated for Shay, and his cock responded accordingly. He knew that Amani meant for these scenes to be a reminder of who Damien’s real lover was, though: the long-time friend, loyal and devoted, not the obsessive cop who’d murdered their own Simone. 

Amani began unbuttoning Damien’s shirt and unbuckling his belt, pressing his hands to  Damien’s naked skin wherever he encountered it. He sucked at Damien’s neck and collarbone, and Damien’s lips parted. He liked being worshipped like this, and having an audience for it, Shay knew.

Amani worked his way around Damien to stand behind him. Shay hoped it meant he might get to suck Damien’s cock this time, that Amani wouldn’t just make him watch, but he knew that was unlikely.

Amani worked Damien’s jeans open until he could push them and his briefs down to his knees.

“Look at this body,” Amani said, his hands roaming with possessive admiration over Damien’s pecs and muscled stomach. Damien’s skin even looked hot to the touch. Shay’s own cock was already straining in his jeans, but he didn’t mind it. He loved the ache of his own desire for his god. He was glad Damien was being kissed and caressed by such loving hands and by his own lovelorn gaze. He deserved every kind of servitude and submission.

“It’s no wonder you were chosen. You’re perfect,” Amani said.

Damien chuckled as if he fondly disagreed, and that only stirred Shay’s adoration more strongly. Amani seemed affected the same way. He pressed a hand to Damien’s waist while the other moved somewhere on Damien’s ass, probably about to tease his hole.

Damien’s cock, only half-hard but already sizable, was in front of Shay’s face, and Shay’s mouth watered. He couldn’t speak or move, though; only watch and wait for instructions that might never come.

“You deserve whatever you want, Damien. Always. Do you want me inside you?” The sound of Amani slapping a firm, rounded ass cheek was sharp enough to wake Shay from his cock-thirsting stupor. “I’ll make it so good, milk you with my cock thrusting inside you, work out all your kinks,” Amani whispered, his voice low and sultry. Damien’s shirt fell from his shoulders and Amani pushed it to the floor. Shay could hear Amani open his own zipper and work his pants below his hips. He watched Damien inhale deeply, and he guessed that Damien was feeling Amani’s cock against his ass, maybe even pressing at his hole. 

“Yes,” Damien said. “Do it.” His voice was low and soft, but always commanding. 

Amani reached over to the dresser, opening a drawer to take out a bottle of lube. He squeezed a generous amount into his hand and brought it to his cock, which Shay could just see before Amani lined up behind Damien again. Amani’s cock was longer than Shay’s, and Shay liked to think of how deeply it could push inside Damien.   

While Amani slicked himself up, Damien kept his eyes on Shay. They could both hear the wet strokes of Amani’s hand on his prick and the soft squirting noise when he let go.

Damien’s eyes grew a little wider, and Shay figured Amani was working a finger or two inside Damien. He never narrated his ministrations, but instead heaped praise on Damien in a way Shay never could. 

“You’re so good, so good,” Amani said quietly, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Damien’s shoulder. “Lean forward,” he said, and Damien arched over Shay, stretching his hands out to brace himself against the wall.

“Damien,” Amani said. “You’re so hot. I’m so lucky I get to do this. You’re everything, and you let me have you like this, take you like this. It’s everything,” Amani said, and he must’ve breached Damien’s hole on the final word, because Damien let out a rare, raw grunt. His cock grew stiff above Shay’s face, and Shay’s mouth watered for a taste of it.

Amani worked slowly at first, moving in and out of Damien with deliberate thrusts. His hands caressed Damien’s shoulders and back and waist, and he kept murmuring praise. It would have been hypnotic if Shay’s hardness wasn’t keeping him alert to every sound and movement the pair made.

He watched as Damien’s expression stayed mostly neutral. Damien never commanded Amani to go harder or fuck him differently. He always let Amani control the situation, and Amani seemed to like it that way, take it for granted, almost.

Shay was torn between staring at Damien’s face or his cock, which had precome pooling at the tip, waiting to be licked off or rubbed along Damien’s shaft. 

As if reading his mind, Amani’s hand shifted from Damien’s hip to his cock, and he started stroking. Damien pushed back into Amani, probably to encourage him, and the sound of Amani’s hips thrusting against Damien’s ass picked up its rhythm.

A sheen of sweat coated Damien’s chest, and his breathing was getting more shallow. Shay ached to palm his own crotch, to ease some of the lust he felt so keenly, being so close to Damien’s leaking cock, but able to do nothing about it. He prayed that Amani would tell him to suck it, to lavish Damien’s cock and deep-throat him while Amani fucked his hole, but he knew prayer was never the answer. 

“Don’t—don’t even think about it, Shay,” Amani gasped between breaths. “The only taste you’ll get is when I make him come on your fucking face.”

Shay let out a whimper at the threat. He wanted that—wanted Damien’s seed to cover him. It’d be like a perverse blessing, and he could lick the semen off his face, eventually. Amani had said so. He’d meant it to defile him, but Shay would love it, and Damien knew Shay loved it, which made it even better.

Damien seemed to edge closer at the thought, too. He rutted into Amani’s hand harder than he had been, and Amani seemed to put his focus in tightening his grip and flicking his wrist well. He still thrust into Damien hard enough to rock them forward with each one, but his priority had shifted.

“Come on, Damien. Come for me. Come on this fucker’s face,” Amani ordered through clenched teeth. “I won’t stop. I’ll milk it out of you. Coat him with it. Come for me.” Amani threw out the commands with each snap of his hips. H was in charge, and no one was complaining. 

Damien’s gaze fell to Shay’s face again, and he looked newly determined, as if the litany of demands from Amani gave him a purpose. He nodded in response, though only Shay could see it.

The muscles in Damien’s stomach contracted with each thrust from Amani. It was wondrous to watch, kneeling beneath him, waiting for the perfection of his body to relent, to let itself be overwhelmed and spill its excess on Shay’s willing body. Shay wished he could gaze at Damien through the whole thing.

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” Damien whispered. A long ribbon of come streaked from his cock as Amani pumped him with a firm grip. Instinct made Shay shut his eyes, and he hated that he’d done it, but he instantly appreciated the way it intensified the sensation of the hot strings of come painting his face. He would die like this if Damien asked him to.

“Oh my god, so hot,” Amani said as his own rhythm picked up. He kept a hand on Damien’s cock but seemed to switch focus now to chase his own pleasure. His hips were slamming into Damien fast, each thrust making a little more come dribble onto Shay’s face and neck. Shay stayed kneeling beneath Damien like a supplicant basking in his blessing.

He opened his eyes to look at Damien again, who was still gazing down at him. He looked calmer, happier, even. The serenity in his eyes was incongruous with the activity of Amani behind him chasing his peak so brutally, but the disjunction was also sublime, like everything about Damien. The light above his head even lent his sweat-soaked hair a golden crown.

Shay didn’t dare swipe a lick of come with Damien admiring him like this, in all his subservience. He hoped Damien would take him later, ravage and abuse him and let him come as well. His stiff cock ached for it, but he could wait. He could wait as long as Damien needed him to.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna—” Amani said, the rhythm of his thrusts going ragged. “Ohh,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck!” Damien swayed over Shay as Amani pushed deep into him, staying seated there for a long minute. Then they started rocking slowly as Amani worked out the final waves of his orgasm. His arms were wrapped around Damien’s waist, his head probably resting on Damien’s back, but Damien kept holding Shay’s gaze like a goblet from which he could drink.

“Later,” Damien mouthed, his lips curling into a smirk. He pushed off the wall and pulled his briefs and jeans back up. He turned to Amani and cupped his hands on either side of Amani’s face. “Thank you,” he said, and he kissed him hard, then opened up to make it deep and sloppy. Amani moaned into the kiss, seemingly caught off guard, but grateful.

Shay watched, but only with a tinge of jealousy. _Later_ was a promise that could keep him happily on his knees for hours, even with Damien’s come drying on his face.


End file.
